God, I'm fucking bored.

Best movie lines?
"Maybe later you can chew the bark off my big fat log."
"Vern, you little sonofawhore you was under the porch!"

Hey, just out of idle curiosity, is buying a house all it's cracked up to be? We're thinking of getting one of those starter homes, you know, one of those patio homes. Probably something less than five years old. But I think we'll only be in this town for another 3-6 years. I mean, Im pretty sure we've got the income to cover mortgage (included taxes and insurance in escrow); but I'm worried there are hidden costs, like bills that you pay when you have a home that aren't usually paid by apartment dwellers. Are there signs I should look for around a house that tell me it's a shithole in disguise?

God, I'm fucking bored. You know what I miss? Chatrooms. They were like the best thing, because you could go in there, and sit and watch or join in - but without the hassle of real people. I mean, it didn't have an annoying speech pattern, it didn't smell funny, and if it was lame you could just leave without having to tell everyone "Oh, why am I leaving? Because you're fucking lame."

Why is it so fucking hot outside? It's too hot to do anything! WTF is with that? If I could go outside, I wouldn't have to sit here and blog as a default way of passing time.

Posted by: shank at 03:35 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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So my buddy grilled some spareribs on the 4th; and there was a bunch of leftovers. Since we hosted the barbecue, I naturally claimed some of said leftovers for myself. Of course, I hadn't had any that day either, so I was eager to try some later. Well, Sunday I heated a half rack up for a late breakfast/early lunch treat. An hour later, I was pissing out my butt.

Let me tell you, bad pork just doesn't fool around any more. I mean, it just wouldn't let up; literally, I was shitting so hard I was sweating. For at least three hours I couldn't be more than a room away from the toilet. Eventually, my butthole was hurting so bad that I just refused the urge to shit anymore. I just clenched it; deciding that I was going to force my body to hold it in until the lower intestine got off it's ass and started absorbing water. I guess I held it for about an hour, when the wife arrived.

She's a nurse, so she knows a crapton more about how a body works than I could ever pretend to. When she walked into the living room and found me curled into the fetal position biting a wooden spoon and covering my ass with both hands; she advised me to just take some Immodium. Unfortunately, you have to take the pills after having a 'movement'.

(Note: I hate that some professionals and literature refer to them as 'movements'. This word, for me, conjures up maybe a ballet, or a couple minutes of Vivaldi. What I was doing was shitting. Spraying raw sewage out of my butt is neither graceful, beautiful, nor moving - ergo, it is not a movement. Let's not be flowery when describing the decidedly unflowery aspects of the human experience.)

So I crawl back into the bathroom, and release what the flood gates had been holding back. It hurt so bad. By mid evening, my a-hole felt like 100 microscopic miners had been filing away at it with 100 tiny rasps. It hurt to sit, it hurt to stand; it was a bad day to be my butthole. After I finished, I went straight into the shower. I mean, six hours of the squirts makes a guy feel a little dirty.

After the shower, I took the meds; and my bowels haven't so much as quivered since. We're talking easily 24 hours without a #2 here; and I've swung to the other side of the panic pendulum. No longer do I worry that I may die on a toilet; I do, however, worry that I may die from poop backup. Of course, compounding this problem is my reluctance to do anything to encourage a deuce; for fear that it may lead to another bout of those uncontrollable, violently powerful, and immensely painful shits.

Posted by: shank at 03:51 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Yesterday afternoon I was flipping through the channel guide on TV and as I was scrolling down I something caught my eye. CSPAN 2, otherwise known as the Ambien channel, was showing coverage of the fucking Daily Kos convention.

Now I don’t read that shit, nor do I read other political blogs because life is too short and the assholery that goes along with it insults my intelligence. But I couldn’t resist. I had to take a look at this. When I tuned in there was a panel of assholes and some tenured prick was droning on about something, I have no idea what. Then they panned to the audience—Holy Mother of God.

I’ve never met another blogger in real life, but if that’s what bloggers look like I hope I never do. Half of them looked like the Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons and the other half looked like leftovers from a Star Trek convention. I’ve never seen so many freaks outside of a circus tent. A couple of them got up to ask insightful questions like, “I don’t think it’s possible, but can you help me hate Bush even more than I already do? Because it’s the focus of my life and I put that before my children.” I couldn’t believe the shit was on CSPAN.

Anyway IÂ’m getting away from what these people looked like, which is the point of this post. I hate to be shallow, but if you look like those people I donÂ’t fucking want you here. For all I know it might rub off like those people who look like their dogs.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:06 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Seven minutes of bike crashes; or, "Darwin's Theory of Evolution: The Irrefutable Proof".

Another loser enters the political arena. At least they'll be among peers. Note: PhatFree is an awesome sight, click around; it's hilarious.

And because so many people have expressed interest...

And people say the Internet is a cesspool. Tsk, tsk.

Posted by: shank at 05:16 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I bought a new car today. Well, not exactly brand new, it's more of a beater. We're going to use it as a beach-mobile because both of our cars are small. I drive a sports coupe and the wife drives an economobile. It's a pain in the ass to try and shoehorn the boards, kayak, cooler, and chairs into either one of them; if not completely impossible. Of course, it was a goddamned sweet deal, 4.0 liters, 4WD, power evertyhing and a nice stereo for only $1,000. Hey, what can I say; I'm a master negotiator. Pics to follow? Have a great Memorial Day weekend!

Posted by: shank at 03:41 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Okay, in protest to Paul killing Cultural Friday's, I've decided to concieve Smut Friday. Until Paul agrees to re-adopt Cultural Fridays, I will bombard you all with the most useless pointless filler (no, not my typical matierial you asshats) every Friday. And Paul, if you're wanting to play hard ball, I will remind you that there's more smut out there in the digital ether than you can shake a stick at. And we could all be learning about something (faggy as it may be) like wine or the history of French painters. Hell, I could go for the OK Corral thing but noooooo...Paul had to deprive us all of leaarning something. So, instead of blogging that might broaden horizons or expand your knowledge base; for your review, I bring you the first installment of SBD's Smut Friday:

Check it out, a dude drinking an assload of beer...

...In related matters...

...Tips for clearing a room besides busting ass...

...I'd go on, but wading through this shit is like going for a morning swim in Venice. I hope you people are disgusted, because I sure am. And this is only the tip of the iceberg.

Posted by: shank at 03:43 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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In this movie review (via Instapundit, who else) of 'United 93' James Pinkerton ponders a world where technology enables terrorism. I'm not taking issue with the movie or review itself, but with something James mentions in the peice. He makes use of the following device throughout the article:

"As for emotive and evocative power, "93" reminds us why seeing a movie, in a theater, "spellbound in darkness," is a richer experience than seeing a movie on a little screen. The viewer travels somewhere, sits in darkness, and enjoys a collective experience with like-minded people; such pilgrimages have been a staple of human existence for thousands of years. "

BULL. Shit. I have been to a movie theater maybe six times in the past year, and each time was worse than the previous. Richer experience? A collective experience with 'like minded people'? Dude, last weekend the wife and I went to go see Silent Hill, and she almost ended up getting into a fist-fight with these three teenagers in front of us. Three girls who may or may not have even been old enough to be in the show, talking on their cellphones, being generally disruptive.
"Shut up!" hisses the wife.
"O no u di'en."
"Shoo, I wi' come up ova dis chair."
"She don even nu-oh." A chorus of braggadocio typical of the age at which people suffer from 'Idiocy'; or as it's commonly known, adolescence.
The movie ends (an agonizing two hours of gore and hamfisted dialogue. Don't go see the movie, but that's another post), and we collect our things and the two friends seated with us. As we exit the theater, these fucking neanderthals are waiting for her in the hall.
"Bye bitch," says one.
Now, my wife is a bartender. She's not a fighter, but she's also not afraid to call a person's bluff; and she's damn good at it too. I've seen her rattle more than a few drunken idiots right out the back door of her bar. So when this rouster drops the b-bomb on her, she retorts without even breaking stride; "Well, maybe you should learn to shut the fuck up in a movie; instead of talking on your damn cellphone for the first fifteen minutes."

Granted, I wasn't exactly happy that my wife chose to, publicly and without restraint, ride herd on a bunch of kids whose parents obviously failed somewhere along the line; but she was right and she wasn't trying to escalate the situation, so I just kept an eye on things.

Not to mention the seats at just about every movie theater are uncomfortable and the food is a ripoff.

At any rate, the whole premise of going to a movie theater to see a film is so contradictory to the age of technology, that I'm suprised Pinkerton made it such a big part of the article; let alone that it was posted at TCSDaily. I mean, these days I can watch digital quality images on a plasmascreen TV with digital surround sound from the comfort of my own living room; and this tech article is saying that movie-going is "a richer experience than seeing a movie on a little screen"?

Tech Central Station my ass.

Posted by: shank at 12:14 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Saw this wonderful holiday greeting and just wanted to share it with ya'll as we kick off the Easter weekend.

Posted by: shank at 05:47 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Yo, I put another story up on the old Protomonkey today. If you've never been over there, check out some of the other stories/authors too. You'll find youself pleasantly entertained.

Additionally, Eddie VanHanel is offically my neighborhood drunk. I'm not kidding, I'd recognize that face anywhere.

Posted by: shank at 12:31 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'm blogging from work. Unbelieveable. Hopefully it won't get me booted out the front doors.

Also, I don't know how many of you have ever been to thephatfree.com (probably the whole lot of you bastards, since I'm always the last person to find out about anything. Did you hear we been to the moon? And then some knotheaded numbnut tried to say it was all a hoax. Anyways), but you should check it out. They rank the posts there, and by God, those five that're listed as the funniest are some pretty top-notch shit. I was reading those ones yesterday and damn near pissed the desk.

As for St. Patrick's Day: No holiday complements the NCAA Championship better! There's sports bars that I need to be in, trash talking, half-time beer binges, overtime smokes, and then when the upset comes there's the uproar. Practically a riot. Last night my cinderella team got knocked out because they played like absolute crap when it really fucking mattered. Meh, that's why they're Cinderella's. Fucking barneys is what they are. Anyways, my two favorites are still in it, assuming this "let's all play like absolute crap" thing isn't contagious.

And yes, when I was in Vegas I failed to get in touch with Jen. And yes, it was totally and completely my fault, because I transposed the last two digits of her phone number. However, I doubt she could have handled the lot of us on Saturday night. We were some rowdy drunken bastards, and we were moving right fast. The funny thing is I sent like three text messages and left one voicemail on some other poor girl's phone. And this was at around 11 or so Vegas time, so it was probably right in the middle of the woman's REM state. At any rate, Jen, since you were insulted and all, I suppose I owe it to you to do something nice for you like invite you to the wedding or something. Sooo... more...

Posted by: shank at 09:44 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Look, you ever just know something? I mean, when you're in the middle of maybe turning a corner and you decide to stop, because you think someone's coming the other way around the corner; and then BAM sure enough, someone comes around the corner? Or maybe you're playing the shell game with that street crook down on 21st and Nun; you pick a cup just because you know, and bam; you beat the house? Surely, there are some things, sometimes, that each of us all know. We just know 'em. The thing that I 'just know', is that I'm going to live a long damn life. I mean, 90+ years. I've always known this, ever since I was a kid. I can't explain it, but since I've got a blog, I'm gonna try. more...

Posted by: shank at 06:02 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Okay, what the fuck is a scallop? I mean, we all can probably describe them; these little white lumps of...nondescript...sea...meat. Truly though, are they fish? Are they plant material? How are they farmed? Where do they come from? I mean, the only thing we know about them is that they're great sauteed in butter. They're the ocean's answer to mystery meat. Plus, they have no distinctive flavor of their own. Scallops.

In unrelated matters, Muslims need to smoke a little more pot. Apparently, they've gone and got their sari's in a twist over a few silly cartoons. They're all upset because some Dane or someone drew a picture of their God, an act violating their religious law. What I don't get it, why they're all so damn bent out of shape about someone outside their religion breaking Islamic law. I mean, most Christians and Jews hold the Ten Commandments as part of their religious law - and yet I can turn on my TV and watch shows about people who violate those laws all the time. I'm not catching any fatwa's in the local church bullitens around here, regarding the organization of a Baptist militia who will fight to have networks apologize to them for such transgression against Baptist 'law'.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, we'll tolerate religion is an much as we will allow you to do your thing. But don't expect us to design our society around it's pillars. Mostly because we're not into the whole stoning of women and owning of slaves.

In an even further unrelated matter, my car should finally come out of the shop next week. It'll be the culmination of easily 8 weeks of waiting and working. The motor came hand built all the way from Honda's factory in Saitama, Japan. It's gonna be sick.

Posted by: shank at 05:34 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Hey, hey, hey, it's muthafuckin' Friday! All across America, people are fleeing the workplace as the five o'clock whistle blows. In Miami, they're probably heading out the beachfront for drinks and dinner. In LA, they're trying to kill eachother in rush hour traffic. In Duluth, some lonely farmhand is picking out his ewe for the night. Hey, everyone celebrates in their own little way. Me personally? Went to Blockbuster (Oh yeah baby, we still rent DVD's the old fashioned way around here) and rented "The Aristocrats", "Transporter 2", and "Dark Water". A nice bit of mindless entertainment that will mix well with the American lager, the bottle of zinfandel, or the pinot grigio we got at the store. Mmm-Mmm. See, no matter how bad your week was, you're almost always glad when Friday comes around.

Unless, maybe - you're this poor little bastard... more...

Posted by: shank at 05:50 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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shank being The King of Curious is wondering what ever happened to that lost lonely girl who's heart he broke back in high school. He then invited contributors to submit a profile of what my old classmate's love muffin's life is like now.

I gotta tell ya folks, the truth is stranger than fiction and after a bit of digging there are some N-V-T-S nuts out there. I found shank's long lost love on one of the interweb dating sites. Her profile is of course presented in the extended entry for your viewing pleasure. more...

Posted by: phin at 10:08 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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IÂ’m old enough to remember when office Christmas parties were actually fun. Most people would get themselves all liquored up and do incredibly stupid things. Like make out with coworkers, vomit in front of the VPs and blurt out inappropriate comments about all kinds of stuff they'd later reget. Unfortunately, those days are over.

“Gone are the nights of photocopying one's bare buttocks, groping interns and hauling home a gift bag full of goodies.” more...

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 02:43 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Five days ago I quit smoking. I canÂ’t adequately describe the discomfort, both mental and physical, that accompanies this endeavor. It really ratchets up the pressure. Last night I had a huge fight with my wife and demanded we start divorce proceedings. In the end I decided to just pick up my socks and put them in the hamper, which started the whole thing. I wish I was exaggerating. IÂ’ve got an uncomfortable patch on my ass that does absolutely nothing to stop the cravings.

IÂ’m thinking heroin might be a good substitute for nicotine at this point. At least heroin addicts get methadone.

On another note, IÂ’m anti-Podcast. All of a sudden everybodyÂ’s David Sedaris. Personally, I could never do it, even if I had something to say. In my case it would just be me reading my posts off a sheet of paper. Hemingway would never have gone in for that crap. Then again, he put his brains to the wall with a twelve gauge.

IÂ’ve listened to a few bloggers Podcast and it was universally depressing. Nothing to say, no style and no charisma. They were doing it simply because they could. Secondly, once I heard their voice it was over for me. Too squeaky. Too flat. Too slow or too fast. A dull monotone with no dynamics. It completely destroyed my image of them and put me off their writing. (IÂ’m not talking about you.) I know thatÂ’s wrong, but itÂ’s true.

Maybe I’m too old-fashioned. Or just too old. When I was growing up Abercrombie & Fitch sold fly fishing equipment. They sold clothes too, of course, but it was nice stuff. Kind of out-doorsy business casual clothes, but with more class than the khaki pants “uniform” most people are wearing now. I still have some nice ties from there. Now it caters almost exclusively to the FWRA (Future White Rappers of America) and I’m afraid to go in there without knowing the proper gang signs. Not that I would ever wear anything they’ve got nowadays. I’ve moved over to Brooks Brothers. I’ve got suits or Levi’s and not much in between.

I was thinking last night, as I convulsed from nicotine withdrawal, that some people have really fucked up haircuts. Donald Trump comes to mind. Here’s a guy who’s got more gold than the Vatican and he can’t get a decent haircut. Imagine going into a hair salon and saying, “I’ll have the Trump!”

“One Trump, coming up!”

“How much will that cost?”

“$15 for the cut and $46 for the hairspray.”

And while weÂ’re on the topic of Trump, I think heÂ’d be less of a dickhole if he took a few bong hits once in while. I havenÂ’t hit a bong in fifteen years, but if memory serves, it was the great equalizer. IÂ’d love to see that guy take his coat off, mess up his hair and lay into a pound of fudge.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:29 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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The crap is hitting the fan for the Oil for Food scammers. Sheesh. The UN are such a bunch of numbnuts.

Also, Jim's wife reviews Snooze's new bloggers:
"Seems like some male-macho kabaza with not much sense to it."
She goes on, but read the whole thing. She really loves us.

Recently, the White House has begun a pushback campaign, a series of press releases targeting Democrats who've issued grievances with the war in Iraq. It seems, the Republicans are calling them out into the front yard, as it were, for a little game of 'Put Your Name Where Your Mouth Is.' Goldstein called it a day or so ago. I'm just surpised the Republicans, after taking so much garbage, are finally entering the fray. Hmph. We'll see how it goes.

Posted by: shank at 05:12 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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